


Over the Edge

by wildwordwomyn



Category: Flashpoint
Genre: Adultery, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Male Friendship, Non-Graphic Sex, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-19
Updated: 2011-12-19
Packaged: 2017-10-27 13:44:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,498
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/296477
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wildwordwomyn/pseuds/wildwordwomyn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ed helps Greg down off the ledge and goes up there in his place. It's all in a day's work.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Over the Edge

**Author's Note:**

> Spoilers for “Haunting The Barn". Also, there's angst like whoa and a few cuss words and some adultery happens of the smexy kind. And I'm totally convinced that what they have goes beyond love.

“...Eddie,” he sighs. “I'm just...I'm tired. I'm so damn tired...”

 

I can tell by the softness in his voice that he is. Not just physically, although the fact that our latest call going straight to shit has us all dead on our feet. No, Greg means he's done with the job, or as close to being done as he's ever been. Which makes me suck in a breath sharp enough to hurt. I can't imagine being here at the S.R.U. without him. If the rest of the team were to leave today I could deal. It'd suck but I'd be able to keep going. If Greg leaves?

 

We're at his house, sitting on his couch. I'm drinking a beer while he nurses a cold glass of water. The pizza he'd ordered has already been eaten and the movie we're watching (Die Hard 1 or 2, who knows?) plays on in the background. Neither one of us is paying too much attention to it. I keep stealing glances at my best friend and partner, wondering when the new wrinkles around his eyes appeared, wondering why I haven't noticed.

 

“I know, buddy.” I don't know what else to say. This is his job, having the right words at the right time. He's better at it than any of us. Me? I'm better at other things. Knowing what magical words will help Greg right now isn't one of them. Instead I lay a hand on his knee, squeezing gently, mindful of an old scar from one of the program's first calls.

 

“I don't wanna end up like Danny.”

 

I blink slowly and swallow. Danny Rangford, my mentor. One of the founders of the S.R.U. A haunted, used up shell of a man too full of all the calls that went wrong to ever really be free again. God. I still can't help getting choked up when I think of the man I used to know and the ghost he's become.

 

“You aren't Danny, Greg. You won't be.”

 

“How do you know?” When he shifts to face me I automatically look back. I always do.

 

“I won't let you be.” Like it's that simple. Like I can save him from Danny's fate. I don't even know if I'll be able to save myself and I'm making him promises? He smiles sadly. The thing is, I would do whatever is in my power in order to make sure Greg survives. He's my family and that's what family does.

 

“You're a good man, Eddie. A little off in the head, but a good man all the same.”

 

And, yeah, I am... “Hey, who you callin' off?” I grin, glad I'm able to coax a laugh out of him.

 

He covers my hand with his, stilling it. I hadn't realized I was rubbing his thigh up until then.

 

“You should go home to Sophie. I'll be alright.” The light mood I'd finally gotten him into disappears in that instant. “Really, Eddie. Go.”

 

He stands up abruptly and takes a step away from the couch. My eyebrows narrow in confusion. Did I miss something? Things were going good and now he's acting weird, almost like he's trying to get rid of me on purpose.

 

“What just happened?” I ask bluntly because I don't understand. I stand too, watching him cautiously.

 

“Like I said earlier, I'm really tired. I'll get some sleep and be fine tomorrow.”

 

I check my watch. “Greg, it's only 7 o'clock.”

 

“I'm getting old, you know. Old men need more sleep,” he says. But he doesn't mean it. When did Greg Parker start lying to me? The last time he did that he was drinking himself to death.

 

“Why are you lying? What's wrong?”

 

He shakes his head and takes a deep breath. “You have a wife waiting for you at home, Eddie. The last thing you need is to be here with me.”

 

I walk over to him, trying to look into his eyes but he refuses. I rewind through the hour I've been here to see if I've said something, done something, to cause him to pull back from me but nothing stands out. I'm not treating him any differently than I normally do. Unless...

 

“Do I need to talk you down?”

 

“I'm not on the ledge, Eddie. Really.”

 

“Yeah? Then how about you look at me when you say it?” Because he's not. He's looking at the front door behind me.

 

His brown eyes lock onto mine. And then I see it. I see what he's suddenly trying to hide. Greg's desperate. For whatever will make him forget himself for a while. Only he doesn't drink anymore and I'm the next best thing. I don't know what all he wants from me or what exactly he expects me to do. It doesn't matter anyway.

 

I pull him to me before he can react and kiss him as if my life depends on it. Hell, maybe it does. He kisses me back hungrily, his hands cupping my shoulder-blades. I think of Sophie, of the kids, asking myself what I'm doing. I haven't stopped, though. That's the bitch of it. I'm kissing my best friend and I'm getting hard. The fact that he is as well makes the situation worse, because I want him to. I want him to get lost in me and not his own head anymore. I may not have the words but this? This I can give him. He can have it without question if it'll ease his pain. Sophie would never understand why he needs this, but I get it.

 

“Eddie,” he breathes after pulling back to catch his breath, “please. Don't do this unless you mean it. Please!”

 

He's telling me to leave, giving me an out. But that second 'please' tugs at me. I stay. Then I push him so he falls back against the couch and slowly drop on top of him, continuing the kissing, grinding down into him.

 

“I'm not leaving you, Greg,” I whisper into his ear before sucking the lobe into my mouth.

 

This is the closet I'll ever get to telling him I love him, and he knows it. He hears it, feels it, with every dip of my tongue into his mouth and every second my weight trustingly sinks deeper into his. Family. Unconventional and dysfunctional, yeah, but family all the same. When he comes he shudders and gasps my name and he's my Greg again. He's crying into the crook of my neck but he's still alive. I finally shift off him so he can sit up, taking him into my arms. His sobs have turned into more manageable sniffles, which makes me feel better. I've carried him through another day. My job is complete. That's what counts. I'll deal with the fallout later.

 

He laughs suddenly. “You know, I don't think this is how you're supposed to talk a person down...” he says lightly after a few minutes pass.

 

“Probably not,” I agree. “But there isn't exactly a manual for this.” Of course, he and Danny wrote the one for the S.R.U.

 

He straightens up, wiping his tears away with his hands. “Ugh, I look as bad as I feel?” He looks at me, his gaze clearer than it was a half hour ago. He's scared. But now he's also back from whatever hell he was in and that I can handle.

 

I wish I could say he looks beautiful. Beautiful and real and like no one else I've ever known. But I don't. “Worse,” I joke instead. He knows. When it comes to him and me he always does.

 

“I'm sorry.”

 

“Don't be,” I reply. I'm not. I should be. I know that. I have a wife waiting for me at home. It's just that Greg is here. He's still here. “I'll take the beer home with me.”

 

“Yeah, okay.” I trust he won't put me through that again, the drinking, the lying, the fear. I just don't believe in leaving temptation. “Thanks for coming over...And for...everything else...”

 

“What are partners for?” I crack a smile so he'll do the same. When he does I squeeze his knee again. “And you're welcome. Now get some sleep, old man. Back to work tomorrow.”

 

His smile grows wider, lighting up his face. “Old man, my ass,” he grumbles, walking me to the door. He hands me the rest of the six-pack I'd brought, then places a hand on my shirt over my heart. His eyes don't look so heavy anymore and I'm glad I could help. “See you tomorrow, Eddie.”

 

I grin back. “See you tomorrow, Greg.” The grin doesn't leave as I walk out the door. Sophie will never know what happened tonight. It'll remain a secret between two friends. I'll see Greg tomorrow along with the rest of team and everything will go back to the way it was before tonight. Because that's the way family works...


End file.
